


Exist Without Subjects

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Original Character - Freeform, POV Outsider, Street Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:10:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam are stopped by a photographer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exist Without Subjects

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from from an [open letter](https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork/posts/660980717309365) from its creator to harassers on The Humans of New York facebook page.
> 
> This was inspired by the countless hours on that amazing blog. This is my first fic, and its self-beta'd, so any critique would help!

 

I'd the spent a couple of hours walking the city streets, traveling a total of a few miles maybe. It was a hot sunny day, the type that made sweat drip down your back from doing nothing more than walking to the store. I currently carried nothing on me except the camera of my trade. Usually I carried nothing because I was less likely to forget anything when I sprinted across a street to intercept a person. Looking for the next shot I was glancing around too much to pay attention to the street. A car horn honked angrily at me as I almost stepped out into traffic. Cursing I stumbled back onto the sidewalk. I swore I’d die from getting hit by a car someday. As I paused for a moment to let the cars pass and catch my breath, I thought back on the last few months.

 

* * *

 

Running a photo blog, taking pictures of strangers and interviewing them had it payouts. I witnessed the best and worst of this city and everything in between, heartbreak and triumph, laughter and tears. I'd worn out three pairs of shoes and gained 5,000 followers. Most would be cynical in my position but I still wanted to know what was going to be the next story around the corner or down the block. This press of human stories was majestic and mundane and wonderful. I don’t know how anyone could be bored by this. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to dive back in the sea of people.

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours later I sat down a park bench to collect my thoughts and review pictures. Glancing up every once in a while I would scan the park-goers, looking for someone that would catch my eye. While the pictures were all good, none wowed me. It was currently between a Vietnam War vet and a student from Nigeria. Sighing, I glanced up again to scan the park. This time something caught my eye.

 

They were walking down the path to the right of me, and I couldn't quite pin what it was about them. They looked like any other gay couple in the city; I'd taken hundreds of shots of couples all more flamboyant then these two. Although they were tall, that wasn't it. They almost looked like any other worker in their canvas jackets and boots, but something stood out. I suddenly realized. It was the way they moved. They seemed to know what the other was doing before they did it, and they possessed this silent warning of danger. I saw them dodge a stroller pushing jogger then stop, the taller one bending to whisper something in the other's ear. I hastily stood up and approached them, knowing if he didn't catch them soon they'd be gone forever. And the silent danger? I'd approached men I'd later found to be in gangs and they hadn't hurt me. Maybe it was the camera.

 

"Hello, I'm Bill Brandon, and I run a photoblog called People of Lincoln, and I was wondering if I could take your picture?"

 

The shorter one, dirty blonde hair styled into short spikes and tired lines around his eyes, started to pull away but the taller one grabbed his hand and pulled him back. The taller one, younger with longer brown hair that tucked behind his ears, looked inquisitively at me.

 

"You run a...photoblog? Sorry we don't get on the internet much."

 

"Yeah, no problem! So, I take pictures of people then post them to my blog. You can choose to be interviewed or not, in which case I'll just put the name of this park."

 

"C'mon, Sammy, this is why I hate cities, you get noticed." The blonde one said leaning away from me and speaking in a low whisper.

"Could you excuse us for one moment?" Sammy, or my guess, Sam implored.

 

"Sure guys, I'll be right over here."

 They stepped off a little ways and I could see a hushed battle going on. Eventually Sam must have won because he pressed a light kiss to the corner of his partner's lips. Then they walked back over hand in hand, with a smug smile on Sam's face.

 

"Sorry, Dean took some convincing. I'm Sam and this is Dean. And you said your name was Bill?"

He held out his hand for me to shake. As I shook his large hand, I felt the tell-tale calluses of a gun shooter. My father had the same hardened spots of skins on his hands from the gun ranges. That must have been the danger I was unconsciously registering. Once he released my hand I brought up my camera and captured the open look on his face and Dean’s closed off one. The shutter click brought a laugh from his mouth and a small release of tension from Dean’s eyes.

 

"Yep. So usually I’ll take a picture first, which we just got out of the way, then I'd do the questions with shots  scattered into them- unless you don't want to do them?"

 

"No, we can do them."

 

"Okay, first off, you said you don't get on the internet a lot?"

 

"Yeah, we're on a bit of a road trip. Traveling all over, through the mid-west and south and even to the northwest."

 

"Wow, that's pretty far. Any memorable events or insights?"

 

"Um there's nothing that comes to my mind."

He looked over to Dean who'd been resolutely silent through this conversation. He looked at the vista of the park's pond for a moment. I brought up my camera to get the moment. After I brought my camera down, Dean seemed to shoot Sam a look that must have meant something to both of them.

“Uh yeah, learned that everything sort of blends together.” This came from Dean which surprised me for a second.

“I’ve found that happens on long trips a lot. So you two, if you had to give one piece of advice to a large group of people, what would it be?”

Dean answered first, “Always cover each other’s back.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, which caused me to snap a picture. He looked startled for a moment and his eyes darted to Sam.

 Sam then piped in, “And find a cause. Then devote yourself to it.”

“When was a time you didn’t cover someone else’s back, Dean? And Sam, what’s that one cause that you’re devoting yourself to?” I looked at both of them and they seemed to draw closer together. Dean answered hesitantly,

“When this girl I considered a sister died. That was my time.”

He looked off into the park, lost in memories. His hands tightened into fists and I was ready to take a step back. A small kiss to his temple from Sam made him close his eye, release his hands and me raise my camera. Sam looped his arms around Dean and answered simply with a single word that took my breath away, “Him.” I snapped another picture then, and followed with a couple more questions. I knew that I had gotten what I was looking for with that small exchange of comfort, and I had found my next post.

 

* * *

 

 

A couple days later I posted the picture and quote to 357 likes and 780 reblogs in the first minute.

> “I found these two in Queen Park. When asked what piece of advice they’d want to give to a large group of people the man on the right answered: “Always cover each other’s back.” And his partner: “Find a cause. Then devote yourself to it.”
> 
>  I then asked when was one time he didn’t cover someone’s back and what was the second man’s cause. He answered:
> 
> ‘When this girl I considered a sister died. That was my time.’ He seemed lost in memories until his partner kissed him and answered his question:
> 
> ‘Him.’”

**Author's Note:**

> So see if you can find the quote from Supernatural. Also "The People of Lincoln" takes its name from the Lincoln Center in New York City, while the photoblogger's name is a combination of the Brandon Stanton (creator of HONY) and Bill Cunningham (famous fashion photographer for the New York Times- seriously look him up!).
> 
> Revised: 5/10/14 (I noticed the beginning was a bit stilted and there was a chunk of story missing. All fixed!)


End file.
